By Eleanor Kazdan, April 25, 2019 — Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would be living in the U.S. I grew up in Toronto. My parents were both from Jewish immigrant families. My mother’s family settled in Montreal. My father’s family settled in New York City but moved to Toronto when he was 1 year old. I was a dyed-in-the-wool Canadian girl, and quite proud of my country. My husband was born in Toronto but grew up in Detroit. He moved back to Toronto in the ’70s to avoid being drafted for the Vietnam war.
So Canadian life went on. School, college, marriage, children. My daughter was born in Toronto and 8 months later we moved to Montreal for my husband’s job. My son was born in Montreal. Life was cozy. But things don’t stay the same for long.
One day Gary came home from work and announced that his company would be moving to New Jersey. He was one of just a few people who was asked to move with them. All of the other hundreds of employees were let go. I was happy for him but devastated at the same time. How could I leave my Canadian life? My friends, family, neighbors? It seemed overwhelming, especially with 2 babies. On the other hand, it seemed like an interesting thing to do for a few years. That few years stretched to 5, then 10, 20, 30! Another lifetime! It has now been 36 years. People sometimes ask me if I miss Canada, or if I plan to move back. “No, I don’t,” I say. The U.S. has become my home.
